


Indomitable

by LavellanLove



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Healthy Relationships, Ice Play, Let's be honest, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Smut with a side of fluff, dom!solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:51:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavellanLove/pseuds/LavellanLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My small contribution to Solas Smut Saturdays, dedicated to this ridiculously smooth opening flirt:</p><p>L: "Indomitable focus?"<br/>S: "I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be...fascinating."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan and Bull have a drunken campfire chat on their way back to Skyhold. Solas learns a little something.

Living with the shems for so long had made Lavellan feel soft. She had only been away from Skyhold for a few short weeks, but her whole body ached from the long days of riding and nights sleeping on the rocky ground. The first chill of winter was starting to set in, and there weren’t enough furs in the camp to stop her shivering. Wrapped in a great bear pelt, she shuffled out of her tent, searching for more warmth. The Iron Bull was still up, sitting on a log, stoking some dimming embers with his greatsword as he took a long swig from his flask.

He nearly fell off the log as a bolt of Lavellan’s fire grazed past his shoulder into the fire pit. The wood crackled back to life as it was engulfed in flame.

Lavellan plopped down beside him with a sigh of relief, her bare toes flirting with the embers. She rubbed her hands together, leaning in to bask in the warmth radiating from the now roaring fire.

Wordlessly, Bull offered her the flask, laughing as she tried not to shudder at the drink’s potency while taking a respectable swig. Lavellan wiped her lips on her wrist, grinning back at him. 

“So, Boss,” Bull said, “Leliana tells me I’m not the only one here who was trained as a spy.” She was always surprised by how much he knew about her past. Apparently that comes with the territory when you befriend a Ben-hassrath.

“Only half-true. I served as a spy, but was not formally trained as one” she replied deferentially. “Compared to you, I have much to learn.”

“Maybe so, but you’re a natural!” Bull said with a strong pat on the back, forgetting the magnitude of his own hand on her slender frame. “If you weren’t a mage, you definitely would’ve been trained as a Ben-hassrath under the Qun.”

“Really, why do you think that?” Lavellan asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Well,” Bull mused, “you’re observant, nimble, a fair fighter, and you’ve got a clever tongue – all trappings of a good spy.” His eye twinkled as he lowered his voice, “plus, you’re not awful to look at.”

“Bull!” she exclaimed, shoving his forearm with her elbow.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” he laughed, “It’s good! Makes you deadly. When people underestimate you, they let their guard down, and you can turn it to your advantage.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she chirped, lips curling up in a smile.

“Don’t be coy! I’ve seen you. You like using wit and wiles to get what you want,” Bull teased.

She took another drink.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Bull grinned.

“And you're saying you don’t?” she retorted, feigning offense.

“Of course I do!” he beamed. “Ben-hassrath training, remember? Grew up learning how to manipulate people. Not you, obviously. But sex is a great way to disarm someone.”

Lavellan could discuss most things with ease, but talking sex still made her blush. She was glad that the night masked her flushed face. “I draw the line at flirtation,” she muttered.

A damn shame!” he growled, “Sex is _so_ much more effective.” He assumed a pedagogical tone: “When it’s a hostile target, you give them what they want. But when it’s someone you care about," he continued, his fingertips just barely touching her thigh, "you give them what they need.”

Amused by the idea that Bull fancied himself a sex expert, she queried, “okay, but how can you tell what someone needs?” 

“Depends. Give me an example.”

Her first thought was Dorian, but decided that might be too personal. “How about those serving girls you, _pass time_ with?”

Bull let out a deep belly laugh. “The serving girls spend most of their day following orders and feeling unimportant. They need someone to make them feel special. Lets them cut loose with no repercussions. I let ‘em bounce on top and tell them their tits look nice. Everybody wins.” Lavellan hadn’t thought it possible, but Bull’s grin widened even further.

“How charitable of you!” she goaded.

But then she paused, thinking it over. Swallowing her embarrassment, she asked softly, “But what about the person who’s giving orders? Would that be different?”

“Ahh.” He understood her meaning immediately. “For you? Yeah. It’d be different.” Bull chucked softly, clearly envisioning something. “That’s not what you need." 

“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling her pulse starting to race.

He took a moment, thinking it over. “You’re the Inquisitor. You didn’t ask for the job, but you’ve taken on the responsibility. You’ve got thousands of lives riding on your decisions. You bear that weight _all day_. You need a place where you can be safe knowing someone else is in charge for a bit.”

She might have been cold before, but now heat radiated from her chest. The idea of it was _extremely_ titillating. Her mind immediately wandered to Solas, who was still fast asleep in his tent. She let out a sigh, watching her breath condensate in the wintry air. Realizing that Bull was still watching, she quickly bit her lip and glanced down at her feet, suddenly self-conscious to be having this conversation.

“Hey, you asked!” Bull grinned, obviously enjoying ruffling the Inquisitor’s feathers. As she took his flask and had another swig, he went in for the kill. “While we’re on the topic, you and Solas, huh? Is he…giving you what you need?”

Lavellan almost choked on her drink. She thought that her relationship with Solas was still a secret. Then again, Bull was more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. Unsure to answer, she muttered, “he, makes me happy.”

Bull kept prodding. “That didn’t answer my question.”

She resigned herself to telling him the truth. “We haven’t exactly, uh,”

“You’re shitting me.” Bull gawked, clearly not having accounted for that possibility. “Really? Rumor around Skyhold is that he’s been spending most nights in your quarters.”

“That’s none of Skyhold’s business!” she snapped.

“Doesn’t matter, they’ll still talk.”  
  
Lavellan huffed, abruptly standing to fetch more firewood. Bull rose and followed her. “So what, are you fending him off with a staff?” he teased, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. There’s no way he doesn’t want it.”

She turned to face him, shoving logs into his arms. “It’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he retorted, taking it in stride. They walked back to the fire side-by-side, arranging the wood around the flame.

“He’s just so reserved!” she lamented. “Every time I feel like I’m getting closer to him, he withdraws. I know he loves me, but I'm not sure that he wants me. It can be, frustrating.”

Bull hummed. “I get it. You’re sick of making the first move. You want to feel wanted. No more inhibitions. Hard to imagine Solas that though, isn’t it?” 

"Yes," she sighed regretfully, “yes it is.”

 

* * *

  
Solas awoke with a start, pulled from his sleep by the vibration of the ward he’d placed on Lavellan’s tent. He listened intently, his eyes still closed, past the roar of the crackling fire and the rhythmic flapping of the canvas beating against the tent’s wooden frame in the wind.

He heard the delicate sound of Lavellan padding out of her tent, and the deep rumble of their Qunari ally striking up conversation with her. 

Lavellan’s voice was enough to catch his attention, but her chat with The Iron Bull had taken an especially interesting turn. He had talked about much with her, but they had both deftly avoided this particular subject.

Solas had always enjoyed the way she could wrap people around her finger. All it took was a brief word, a touch on the wrist, a lingering glance, or a flash of that coquettish smile, and they were hers. But admittedly, he could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy as she warmed up to Bull’s sensual talk.

He always fancied himself above such trivial things, but the Iron Bull was not wrong. Gradually, he had allowed himself to start reveling in her attention, his resolve weakening with her every touch.

The disappointment and longing in her tone made his heart sink.

She made him happy, happier than he’d been in countless ages. She deserved the world, not just lies by omission and abrupt endings to intimate moments. He’d spent so long trying to protect them both from inevitable heartbreak that he’d neglected to make her as happy as she made him.

Could she truly not tell that he desired her? Had she not sensed it, the way his breath hitched when she kissed him? The way he couldn’t help but sigh with pleasure at her slightest touch? Could she not see the hunger in his eyes as he drank in her form? Did she not realize how much restraint it took not to give in to his desires, how close he was to abandoning everything he’d worked for just to have her?

He was glad that they were only one day’s ride away from Skyhold. He was done holding himself back. The moment he got her alone, he was going to show her exactly how he felt by giving her exactly what she needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party arrives at Skyhold, and Solas is growing impatient with all of the distractions.

Lavellan was relieved to be back at Skyhold. She could scarcely believe she had come to call such a place home. But she certainly was not looking forward to her Inquisitorial duties, all the questions and briefings and planning. Today, she just wanted to relax.

But of course, as her party passed through the barbican they were already being swarmed. She slumped off of her Royal Sixteen, patted him in the flank, and begrudgingly resigned herself to a day of administrative nonsense.

Dennett’s assistants started tending to the mounts, Harding was there to brief the Inquisitor on the status of her missions, and Josephine started peppering her with a list of to-dos. She traipsed into the great hall, her eyes glazing over with disinterest, as the Ambassador trailed behind her running through the day’s agenda.

As Josephine opened the door to guide Lavellan to her office, she stopped her with a firm hand on the shoulder.

“Josie, I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now” she confessed, “I need a few moments to collect myself. Can’t this wait, at least for a while?”

“Oh!” Josephine stammered, a bit taken aback, “I suppose we can reconvene at our meeting in the war room. I will take my leave, then.”

Relieved to have bought herself a bit more time, Lavellan ascended the stairs to her quarters, peeling off her riding gloves as she walked.

As she stepped into her room, the door slammed shut behind her. She turned with a jump, only to find Solas leaning against the door, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

“Creators, Solas! You startled me.” She gasped. He had never invited himself into her quarters before.

“Ir abelas, vhenan” Solas murmured, sauntering closer, doing nothing to hide his desire. He crossed behind her, his fingers raking lightly across her collarbone, undoing the clasp of her riding cloak. With a soft jerk, he pulled the cloak from her shoulders, letting it slunk to the floor. He swept her hair over one shoulder and tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck to his lips and teeth.

Her eyes closed as she inhaled, the heat of his breath on her skin making her shiver. Lavellan tried to regain her composure, reminding herself that she only had a few minutes to spare.

“Solas”, she protested, “as much as I enjoy the warm welcome, I have a meeting in the war room.”

He turned her to face him, cupping her jaw in his palms. “I don’t care,” he growled, slaking his lust for her kiss. Solas was usually gentle and tender, but this was different. Deeper. Hungrier. The press of his lips and the tease of his tongue left her breathless when she finally broke away.

She looked up at him with surprise at his candor. From the heated look in his eyes, he was enjoying her fluster, smirking as she stumbled for words. “But Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine are expecting me,” she breathed, turning away towards her wardrobe. Solas caught her with a steady grip on the waist.

“They can wait,” he said, firmly pressing his body against her from behind. “I, on the other hand, cannot.” Her stomach fluttered at the words. She could feel his arousal through their clothes, and it was almost enough to make her tremble with anticipation.

With a firm rock of his hips against her backside, he brought his lips to her ear and whispered low, “Dirth ma, Inquisitor, if you would prefer to attend to your duties, I will not stop you.”

His hands slid down from her waist to the front of her thighs. “But if I can have my way with you, you will not leave this room. She arched back into his embrace, unable to mask her eagerness. “Nor will you want to,” Solas laughed, nipping at her earlobe. She whimpered as his fingertips dared to dip beneath her waistline, sending a shudder down her spine.

“Is this what you want?” he teased.

“Oh, yes” she exclaimed, with a bit more desperation that she’d anticipated, “take me.” She turned to face him, trying to remove his trousers, but he caught both her wrists and met her gaze.

“No,” he chided, his voice powerful and stern, “I think you are done giving commands for the day.” He released her, clasping his hands behind his back.

“The only commands will be the ones I issue. You do enough of that as Inquisitor, do you not?” She nodded bashfully, her ears reddening as she bit her lip to mask a grin.

He tilted her chin up with his thumb. In a softer tone, he added, “If you wish for me to stop, simply say _shantri._ ”

Lavellan giggled at the word. “Well, that certainly would kill the mood, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed it would”, he laughed, smiling as his lips met hers once more.

He pulled back, lifting his tunic over his head, his toned form flexing with each fluid movement.

Solas drew back into her, making quick work of her belt. Her breaths grew shallow as his lithe fingers undid each clasp of her vest, with both precision and urgency in equal measure. She raised her arms as he removed her shirt, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers.

He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, cradling her neck as he lowered her down. Solas circled around to the foot of the bed, gently dragging her closer by her boots. He slid them off ceremoniously, kissing each of her ankles, then peeled away her pants with a bit more abandon.

As Lavellan repositioned herself on the bed, Solas moved toward the headboard, unknotting the long, tasseled cords that held back the canopy on either side.

“What are those for?” she asked cautiously, not sure if she wanted the answer.

“Oh, you won’t be needing your hands.” He replied plainly, looping the cords through the center of the headboard. Wordlessly, he climbed over her, binding her wrists together in intricate knots. He did good work; inescapably secure, but still comfortable.

“Is that good, ma haurasha?”

“Yes, vhenan,” she beamed.

“Good.” He hummed, loosening the drawstring of his trousers. “Now, let’s see how indomitable your focus _truly_ is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas, vhenan = I am sorry, my heart.  
> Dirth ma = tell me  
> Shantri = Chantry  
> Ma haurasha = Lit. “my honey”, slang for sexual wetness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas tests Lavellan’s focus with a bit of a magic lesson.

Solas could scarcely believe this was real. He hadn’t been so close with someone in ages. But despite his better judgment, here she was, urging him on with those piercing, bright eyes.  _This is all I’ve ever wanted,_  he thought, bringing his lips to her forehead. 

He ran his hands down her back as Lavellan arched for him to unpin her breast band, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tremor of nervousness in his touch. The sight of her made him weak. “Ane ir’ina’lan’ehn, vhenan,” he marveled, his fingertips tracing the curves of her exposed chest.   
  
Solas cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs circling her firming nipples. She hummed as he took one into his mouth, flicking the bud with his tongue. He moved to the other, closing his eyes and breathing her in: orange blossom, bergamot, and cedarwood with pear notes. The heady scent was perfect on her, alluringly sweet; complex yet playful.   
  
He continued sucking and biting as his free hand caressed her skin, wandering down her stomach to her pelvic bone. He loved the way she tensed as his fingers moved lower, and the feeling of her pulse quickening under his lips. His hand was close enough to feel the heat radiating off of her, but she wasn’t ready for his touch. Not yet. He wanted her begging first, every nerve ending singing for him.  
  
She pouted when Solas climbed off of her, stepping out of his pants and moving towards the wardrobe. He could feel her eyes on his back as he sifted through the drawer, retrieving a light, silken sash from the lot. He returned to the bed, running the cool, smooth fabric between his fingers.   
  
Solas straddled her once more, and couldn’t help but chuckle when her hips wantonly rolled under the pressure of him. “My,” he purred, “so eager, ‘ma’veraisa. But you will have to wait a while longer.”  
  
“Why?” she whined, clearly flustered by his teasing.   
  
“Because I haven’t had nearly enough fun with you yet,” he growled, wrapping the silk over her eyes.

* * *

The room went black. She acclimated to the darkness and weight of the silk across her face. She tugged lightly at the bindings on her wrists, resigning herself to do nothing but listen and feel.

Everything was heightened, from the firm length of him against her smalls to the sound of his breath falling into rhythm with her own. The thrum of Solas’ magic filled the air. “How are those barrier spells coming along, gaildhalas?”

“They’ve served me well so far. Why?”

“Alright. Cast one now, and keep it up.”

Though unsure why, she complied, a thin barrier emanating from her bound hands. 

“Very good,” Solas said, bringing his hands back to her skin. She inhaled with a hiss at his touch. His fingers seared with heat. She could feel him drawing patterns over her body, winding up her sides and across her inner arms. 

“Do you recognize these?” he asked. Lavellan shook her head no.

“Lightning runes.” Solas chuckled. 

Sensing her momentary panic, he added, “don’t worry vhenan; they’re small. But if you wish to avoid a jolt, you will just have to focus on keeping that barrier up.”

She braced herself in the darkness, listening hard for a signal of what was coming next. The anticipation was miserable and exhilarating. Solas conjured ice to one hand, grazing her collarbone with the tips of his fingers.“Gods” she gasped, recoiling with surprise. One touch, and she had almost let the barrier slip away. This was going to be harder than she thought. 

His chilled touch moved down her sternum, sweeping across each breast to tease at her nipples. She whimpered as he went, feeling herself grow more and more sensitive. 

“You’re doing well,” Solas cooed, rewarding her with the warmth of his tongue, trailing behind the ice over her breasts and up her neck. He swallowed her groan with a deep kiss, her barrier starting to falter as her mind wandered to his hand as it flirted with her small clothes.

It was only as Solas’ fingers ran between her legs that she realized just how wet she’d become. His hand pulled away, and she heard him sucking off his fingers.

“Na’reun’rodhe!” he hummed, his tone heavy with lust. He summoned cold to his hand once more, splaying his palm over her center. She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth as her core tensed, the tingle of his ice sending a satisfying chill up her spine.

Solas let his hand wander from where she ached to be touched: down her thighs, across the arches of her feet. She flinched with each cold stroke, not able to anticipate where it would land next.

Without warning, he brought both hands to her slit, parting her labia and circling her clit with chilled fingertips. That is when her focus finally gave way.

It was through her moans that she realized her mistake; the barrier had already started to dissipate. The runes on her arms started to surge with energy, electricity arcing across her skin. The sensation was enough to send her reeling.  

_Shantri_. The word formed on her tongue, but she would not speak it. She trusted him. Loved him. And despite her initial apprehension, the buzz of rune crackling over her chest felt incredible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ane ir’ina’lan’ehn = You are gorgeous.  
> Ma’veraisa = my vixen  
> Gaildhalas = lit. embrium. Endearment similar to “sweetie” or “baby”  
> Na’reun’rodhe = Your wetness tastes sweet.  
> Shantri = Chantry. Lavellan’s safe word.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan struggles to withstand Solas' teasing.

Lavellan was so beautiful like this: laughing, gasping, biting her lips, stifling her moans, back arching, hips rocking, drunk with pleasure and dripping with desire. A dewy sweat adorned her skin, like a veil of velvet glimmering in the rosy light.

Having her here in the flesh was even better than Solas had imagined, and he had done _plenty_ of imagining. He relished the chance to study her, taking his time, committing each line and curve to memory. In this moment, nothing else mattered.

Solas enjoyed finding the answers to questions that had too long lingered in his mind. _What would make her writhe? What would make her squeal? What would she sound like when he finally brought her over the edge?_

He worried her smallclothes loose and stripped them from her hips, shifting to kneel between her legs. Solas worshipped her inner thighs with kisses, basking in her warmth as he moved closer to his prize. He wrapped her legs around his shoulders and she sighed as he parted her with his tongue, softly lapping at her sensitivity.  
  
He lost himself in her pleasure as he fell into a rhythm, swirling, sucking, and licking her into blissful submission. Though she was wordless, the delectable sounds of her humming and moaning encouraged him on. He summoned a chill to his fingertip, skirting her entrance with a single icy digit.

His efforts elicited an intoxicating cry.

“Sel’ah ir’palasha,” Solas grinned, wetting his lips before burying himself between her thighs once more. Her thighs squeezed against him as she neared her peak, muscles twitching with each stroke of his tongue.

“Rosemah’dah’din!” Lavellan moaned. “Please, Solas.”

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice throaty with heat. He pushed into her slowly with two fingers, giving her a moment to adjust to the fullness. He could feel her tightening around him. “I am going to make you come, vhenan. But not until you are begging for it.”  
  
“I _am_ begging you,” she whimpered, her body undulating to the rising tempo of his hand.  
  
“And yet, I am unconvinced.”

He quickened his pace, pinning her hips down with his forearm and teasing her clit with his free hand. But each time he felt her getting close, he slowed down and deprived her of his other hand. She was mewling and whining, squirming with frustration. It would not be long now.

She broke into a cold sweat, mouth dry, palpitating under him. The pressure was building fast, and she could not take much more. “Sathan,” she pleaded, “em’lasa reun.”

“Like you mean it,” he commanded, unrelenting in his speed.

“Sathan!” she yelled, her desperation reaching a fevered pitch. She was throbbing for release. 

“Ma nuvenin,” he murmured into her swollen flesh, his lips and tongue meeting his hands at her center once more. He savored each twitch as he bore down on her clit. She pulsed under his merciless tongue as her moans devolved into uninhibited screams.

Climax did not come quietly. It was the release of a dam: the rush flooded her hearing as flecks of color swam across blinded eyes. A second wave of pleasure crashed over the first, from her pounding chest to her curled toes. By the third, her mind was drowning in ecstasy. Solas stroked her through the tide as it fell, drawing it out for as long as her body could abide.

Through her gasps for air and sighs of relief, his name was the only word she could manage to muster.

* * *

 

Then there was light. Though the rays were soft, cascading through the tall stained glass windows, the stark contrast from the black of the blindfold was enough to make her squint. Solas folded the silk delicately and set it aside, chuckling as his love blinked her way into acclimation. He sat by her on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair with a smile, apparently amused by her disoriented daze.

_What in the void just happened?_ she thought. This was a far cry from the cautious, stoic apostate she knew. Though she wondered what had gotten into him, she could hardly bring herself to care. His assertiveness was more than welcome and long overdue. Besides, his skill with her defied description. 

Solas reached for the headboard, and with some careful maneuvering, Lavellan felt her bonds slip loose. After freeing herself, she rolled her wrists and stretched across the bed, reveling in the afterglow of her satisfaction. She still wanted more. She wanted him. 

“How are you feeling, arasha?” he asked, with a gentleness that belied his dominant demeanor.

She sat up and answered him with a loving kiss, draping her arms around his neck. She could taste herself on his lips, and feel his heart race while he cradled her face in his palms. She had longed for the affirmation. More than anything, she wanted to feel _wanted_ by him. Now, for the first time in the months they'd been together, all doubt had finally left her heart. 

She put a breath of space between them, their foreheads still touching.

“Nu’da’din’sal’mah” she replied hoarsely, looking him in the eyes, tracing his length through his breeches.

A groan escaped him as he closed his eyes at her touch, then a mischievous smile spread across his face. “I was hoping you would say that,” he hummed as he pulled her in, slating his mouth over hers once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sel’ah ir’palasha = your sounds are so sexy  
> Rosemah’dah’din = I am about to come  
> Sathan = please  
> Em’lasa reun = give me (sexual) release  
> Arasha = my happiness  
> Nu’da’din’sal’mah = wanting to go again after orgasm


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan tries to turn the tables on Solas.

Solas smiled against Lavellan’s glistening lips, amused by the eagerness of her newly freed hands. Granted, he was already throbbing for her, but this wasn’t about him. She reached down, trying desperately to free him from his smallclothes, but he clasped his hand over hers and guided her fingers away from his arousal. 

“Ah,” he purred, “is that what you want, vhenan?” She nodded brightly, trying once more to reach for his smalls. He loved the way her pupils dilated as she studied him, the way her chest flushed as her imagination ran wild. He loved how badly she wanted him.

Solas raked his fingers through her hair, twisting the silken locks around his palm and tipping her head back to expose her neck. A hum formed in the back of her throat as he nipped at her skin, working his way up to her earlobe. 

“I want to feel you,” she pleaded, trying to keep her voice steady as his teeth gave her goose bumps. 

“Very well,” he indulged. He released her hands from his and rose from the bed, allowing her to finally strip his smallclothes away. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to just take her right then and there. She clamored to her knees, working her way down his pelvic bone with her lips and teeth and tongue, drawing forth a sigh with relief as her warm fingers ran delicately along his shaft. 

She flicked at his tip with her tongue, gripping his backside and pulling his hips forward to take in as much of him as she could manage. His neck rolled back and his knees began to buck as he lost himself to the heat of her mouth. Solas steadied himself on the bedpost, hoping she wouldn’t notice his vulnerability as she fell into a steady rhythm. She had no intention of finishing him, but she thought he deserved some teasing for a change.

Seizing this brief opportunity to turn the tables, she stood up to face him, pressing her palms into his chest as she forcefully walked him back and pinned him to the wall. 

“Oh, so you’re in charge now, is that it?” he teased.

Lavellan grinned coyly. “I am the Inquisitor, after all.” He wondered if she knew how much power she had over him, or how little her title had to do with it. 

She captured his mouth with hers as his back met the stone. As she melted into the kiss, her tongue twining with his, Solas allowed his hands to wander down, firmly cupping her ass. 

Catching her off guard, he lifted her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around, playfully pinning her to the wall. 

“Still think you’re in control?” he smiled, enjoying the feeling of her trembling as his arousal teased her still-wet entrance.

She drew in a sharp breath as he grinded against her. Her resistance was token at best, her pleasure belied by the way she bit her lip to conceal her mischievous grin. It was so good to see her so happy. 

“Oh, I cannot wait to be inside you,” Solas growled, teeth sinking into the tip of her ear. “That is what you want, is it not?” barely a thrust away. She whimpered, wantonly rolling her hips into him, hoping the friction would distract her from the emptiness at her core. 

“But first,” he murmured, “I would have you moan my name again.” As her lips began to form the consonant, he abruptly summoned tendrils of magic to his fingers, flooding her senses as they enveloped her. The energy was dizzying and divine, her entire body pulsating with pleasure. The word was lost as her mouth fell agape, her thighs squeezing tightly around his waist. Toes curling, fingernails digging into his back, she succumbed to a second orgasm even more intense and explosive than the first.

“That’s it”, he cooed, pressing against her, savoring her heat and the way her muscles kept contracting as she eased down. He slid one hand behind the small of her back and hastily carried her back to bed. 

Solas drank in every inch as he climbed over her. The exquisiteness was in the details: the rise and fall of her breast as she panted for breath, the delicate bead of sweat tumbling down her forehead, and the flutter of excitement in his stomach to be sharing this with her at last..

He brought his lips to her ear, his breath sending a tickle down her spine. His voice was just above a whisper, in that sacred tone only a lover would know.

“Tell me what you want. Anything you want. Speak it, and it is yours.” 

She met his gaze with an earnest smile. “Just you,” she breathed, guiding him towards her with her hand, “All of you.”

***

He pressed into her, allowing her to adjust to the fullness. The breath she’d inadvertently been holding began to escape her lips, her eyes starting to close in a sigh of relief.

“No,” he said with a chastising thrust. “Eyes open.” Startled and delighted she obeyed, meeting his gaze as he rocked into her again. She hooked her heels behind his back, pulling him in even deeper with what strength her thighs had left.

The details seemed to grow hazy as she lost herself in pleasure. The sensation of him was almost overwhelming. There was nothing but the steady tempo of his movements above her, his voice filling her mind with ancient words both sacred and profane. Their meaning was not so much understood as felt: his heart belonged to her and her alone.

He pulled out gently and flipped her on her stomach, urging her to her knees as he knelt behind her. She complied and he entered her again – this time, with far more urgency. He could not wait any longer.

“Sing for me again, ara av’in,” he commanded, punctuating his words with the slap of her ass against the front of his thighs. 

“I can’t!” she panted, still tender and shaking with exhaustion. 

“Yes, you can,” he asserted. “Focus your mind.”

Her mind? She could hardly think straight. But regardless, she sucked in a deep breath and released it as slowly as she could, trying to heed her lover’s command. 

As his pace grew harder and faster, any focus she’d managed to muster was utterly lost. She hardly recognized the sounds that were escaping her lips.

“Focus, vhenan’ara,” he chastised. “I want to feel you come.”

She did her best to obey, closing her eyes, training her mind on the spreading warmth within her.

He pressed forth into a final frenzy, grunting and growling with animalistic need. She cried out in sweet agony, burying her face in the pillow as he coaxed out more screams. The sound and sensation of it all was enough to bring him over the edge with her. 

Paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vhenan’ara = heart’s desire  
> Ara av’in = My mouth. A very personal (and slightly sexual) endearment. The meaning is essentially, “I love you so much, and desire you so much, that my mouth tastes like yours.” But also means, “We understand each other on such a personal level, that you could talk for me.”


End file.
